11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself
by Veritas Found
Summary: [Official.] It had taken him two minutes to finally stop lying to himself, and it would take the rest of his life to figure out why had ever started in the first place. But, standing on those black rocks, he had a pretty good idea of where to start.
1. Prologue: He Walks the Sands

**Title:** 11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself

**Author:** Wish Wielder

**Fandom:** Doctor Who

**Pairing / Character Focus:** Doctor x Rose

**Challenge:** 11 Reasons

**Theme / Prompt:** N/A (Add. prologue; no theme for this part.)

**Word Count:** N/A

**Rating:** T / PG-13

**Summary:** It had taken him two minutes on the parallel of this desolate beach to finally stop lying to himself, and it would take the rest of his life to figure out just why he had ever started in the first place. But, standing on those black rocks and feeling those ghostly imprints of the universe next door, he had a pretty good idea of where to start.

**Notes:** Set during both S1 & S2, and S3-after. Also: unlike my other thememunity challenges, this fic goes together as **one fic**. The chapters **are** related, even if they don't entirely seem it.

**Disclaimer:** "Doctor Who" and all respective properties are © the BBC. Megan D. (Wish Wielder) does not, has never, nor will ever own "Doctor Who".

_**11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself**_

_**Prologue: He Walks the Sands…**_

It never changed, no matter how many times he walked its sands. It didn't matter what time period – no matter the day, week, month, year, season, it always remained the same. Cold, and gray, and lonely. It was a bitter pill, a dead reminder to a memory that was still so alive, in his heart and in that world.

Dälig ulv Stranden. Bad Wolf Bay.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when he couldn't even think of coming here. He would return unwillingly every time he dared dream, to cold and dead and tears, waking in a breathless panic with those unspoken words still on his lips. His dreams were enough – too much, even. He wanted as far away from the memories as he could. He didn't want to go back to standing there, looking at where she should have always been. He didn't want to remember that she was gone.

But it had happened, right after his last companion had left. He had gone, hurtling off into the vortex without any set destination, and his beautiful ship had landed him there. She had known, even when he hadn't; he needed to stand there, on those rocks where he could feel shadows of his perfect Rose, looking out at the sweeping tide much as she probably had that day. He had needed to remember, even when he had run so hard and far from it.

And now he cherished the memories, taking in the bad as as wonderful and glorious as the good. He always came back, at least monthly, to that place – their place. He came and he stood and he remembered, allowing himself to slip back into those two years they had before the Universe turned cruel. He would close his eyes and return to a shaking closet underneath Downing Street, a game station swarming with Daleks, a mistletoe-coated library in a 1879 manor, a blindingly white wall at the top of Torchwood Tower – a windy beach fifty miles out of Bergen in Norway. He would close his eyes and remember, and for just a moment he would again live – really, truly live.

It had taken an organization of power-hungry humans to make him realize just what he had in Rose Tyler. It had taken death and loss and sealed walls to make him stop the lies, because that's all he had done for two years.

He had grabbed her hand, and he had told himself that shock of electricity was just battle-induced adrenaline.

He had pinpointed every little nuance and mannerism, and he had told himself that it was just his clever mind being observant.

He had promised her mother he would keep her safe, and he had told himself it was just to get her to stop nagging.

He had sent her home, and he had told himself he was just making good on that promise.

He had kissed her, and he had told himself it was just to save her life.

He had loved another, and he had told himself it had nothing to do with his fear of loving her.

He had crushed her with hugs, and he had told himself the fluttering in his stomach was just a bad sandwich.

He had heard forever, and he had told himself his hearts raced for fear of what would happen to her when she couldn't keep it.

He had sent her away, and he had told himself he didn't really kill himself in the process.

He had burnt up a sun to say goodbye, and he had told himself it was because it was the least she deserved.

He had heard her tear-choked confession, and he had run out of time.

It had taken him two minutes on the parallel of this desolate beach to finally stop lying to himself, and it would take the rest of his life to figure out just why he had ever started in the first place.

But, standing on those black rocks and feeling those ghostly imprints of the universe next door, he had a pretty good idea of where to start.

**A.n.:** _I know I'm already doing way too many thememunity challenges, but I stumbled upon this comm, saw the theme lists, and I couldn't say no. It didn't help when this idea just slammed into me with all the force of one of the Doctor's landings. Anyway, like I said: this first bit is just the prologue – _it was **not** following any of the selected themes _(and yes, I did get prior approval to start this way)_._ That being said…I really hope you guys enjoy this one, and I really hope it comes out as good as it sounds in my head._


	2. She Cared, Maybe too Much

_**11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself**_

_**Chapter One: She Cared – Maybe too Much**_

His eyes lock on hers, and for the first time he sees the truth behind her. She is huddled against the TARDIS, that boy she had been so concerned about cowering beside her, looking down at him as she comes to understand what is going on. She takes in the fire and the screams and him, held struggling by two Auton dummies, and it all seems to click. And what he sees scares him – truly, absolutely terrifies him.

He can see the depths of her heart, her true strength solidifying behind those brown eyes. He can see who she really is – what she is really capable of – and he is in awe. And scared – so very scared – because he sees her taking in her surroundings, searching for a way out. But it isn't a way out she is looking for, and he knows it.

He knows what she will do even before she stands. He knows – even when the boy shouts at her to leave him, that she can't do anything to help. He knows her every plan when she walks over to the chain and looses it from the wall. He knows she will swing down, freeing him as she knocks the Autons and antiplastic into the Consciousness.

But he brushes it off as he grabs her, stopping her fall. He just smiles, wiping away the fear as he looks at the screaming vat before them.

"Now we're in trouble!" he says, and then they are off, running again towards the TARDIS and the boy clinging so desperately to it, as if it is his only means of salvation. It is, but he is still a bit disgusted at how pathetic the act looks. He ushers him inside, and in another moment she follows, the doors lock, and he is sending the TARDIS away from the exploding factory behind them. They land, and he is glad to see the boy race out the doors. He watches her follow, and almost without thinking he goes after her, stopping in the doorway. He listens as she calls her mother and grins when she chides the boy for his inaction. She turns back to him, and his grin grows.

"Nestene Consciousness?" he asks, snapping his fingers. "Easy."

"You were useless in there – you'd be dead if it wasn't for me," she says, jabbing her thumb towards her chest, and he pauses just a moment.

Again he sees her eyes, staring down at him with a look so resolved it still sends chills down his spine. She had cared if he lived or died. He is a total stranger – one that had told her quite plainly just hours before to go on with her life and forget him. But there she had stood, watching him with eyes someone like him didn't deserve to stand under. She doesn't know him, but she cares – and it still terrifies him.

"Yes, I would," he says, nodding as he looks down. He wants to ask why – why him, of all people? – but he can't. He's going to leave, and then she'll be gone – just another memory in a long line of faces. She'll move on, and he'll become someone lurking at the edges of her mind – a shadow of a dream caused by a bad bit of soup or trauma from her job exploding. She'll forget him, just like he had asked that morning. He resigns them to their fates, and he looks back to her. "Thank you."

Because it's the last chance he'll have to say it, and he means every word. But he can't quite shake the sight of her eyes, and suddenly he's not so sure he wants it to be the last chance.

"Right then – I'll be off. Unless…ah, I dunno…" he looks away, almost scared to ask – almost scared that she'll say no – before glancing back, "…you could come with me."

And he sees it again – that flicker and spark in her eyes, and he knows she wants to say yes. She wants to follow him, but she needs something more – just a tiny push.

"This box isn't just a London op, you know, it goes anywhere in the universe – free of charge," he says, smiling, and he can see her come just that bit closer to yes. And he doesn't know why, other than those eyes burning so intensely for the life of someone she doesn't even know, but he wants her to say it. He wants it so bad it hurts, though he refuses to let her see. All smiles and reassurances – no desperation on his part, not at all.

"Don't," the boy at her feet says, and he bites back his distaste. "He's an alien – he's a…a thing!"

"He's not invited," he says quickly, and he sees her step back. "What d'you think?"

'Say yes. Please, say yes.'

"You could stay here – fill your life with work and food and sleep – or you could go, ah…anywhere," he says with a shrug, and he sees her shift.

"Is it always this dangerous?" she asks, and he gives her a grin – a smile born of excitement and thrills and truth.

"Yeah," he says, hiding his grimace when the boy jumps up, clinging to her legs. He wants to shout at him to grow a spine, but he remains silent. She shrugs when she feels him grab her, and she waves him off to the side.

"Yeah, I can't," she says. "I've…um…I've gotta go and find my mum, and someone's gotta look after this stupid lump."

He looks down, and he can't hide the disappointment as her refusal echoes in his ears. He wants to fight it, to convince her she's making a mistake. He wants her to come along. He doesn't want to leave her here, letting that big-as-the-universe heart get wasted on the 'stupid lump' clinging to her.

"Ok," he says, and he sees her suck in a breath. "See you around."

And he hopes he will. She keeps watching him, even as he steps back into the TARDIS, and again those eyes are locked on him. He shakes off the look she's giving him, not wanting to think on it – not wanting to ask again. He never does – one chance to say yes, and that's that. What difference will second thoughts make?

He gives her a nod and closes the door, trying to press her out of his mind. But as he walks to the controls and sends the TARDIS into the vortex, he can't. He sees her again in that factory, looking down at him like he was so important – like it mattered if he died there. He sees her watching him walk away, leaving her for good, looking at him like she can't believe it. Her voice said no, but everything else said yes. Her eyes, her face – her entire spirit had screamed at him to take her.

And again he is terrified, mystified at how a human girl – and a teenager, at that – can care so much for him, a man she doesn't even know. He knows she would put her life in his hands without a second thought, trusting him with everything she has, knowing he'll get her out of any situation. _Is it always this dangerous?_ Yes, and it doesn't matter – she knows he won't let it harm her.

She doesn't know him.

He tells himself that over and over and over again, but it doesn't matter. Each time he says it it gets weaker, until finally he can't see why it ever made sense in the first place.

She cares, when no one else does. And isn't that worth a second chance?

The TARDIS lands with a gentle _bump_, and he runs to the doors. He opens one and pokes his head out, grinning at her like she wasn't driving him crazy.

"By the way," he says, loving the confusion in her glance, "did I mention…it also travels in time?"

She smiles, and he knows her answer all over again – and he knows she'll stick with it this time. He leaves the door open for her, grinning as he falls back into the ship and walks towards the controls. He'll let her say goodbye – even to an idiot like…what had she said his name was, anyway? Ricky?

He's standing there, leaning against the console and tossing a gadget in his hand, when she runs back in, her face split with a smile. And though he gives her a grin, he forces himself to be the living definition of calm, denying the urge to whoop and holler and cheer.

She scares him, with her heart that cares too much for a stranger so undeserving. But maybe, he thinks with a smile, that's half the fun of it. Maybe that's what will make it worth it in the end, because he can tell – even now, when all he knows of her is heart and courage and a soul that can be described as nothing short of passionate – that asking her twice will have been the best thing he ever could have done. And in a way, that scares him, too – but he knows she's still worth it.

"Right then, Rose Tyler, you tell me: where do you wanna go?"

**A.n.:** _This was a beast to write. Seriously – I had this great big burst of brain surge for the prologue and the whole thing, really, but then I sit down to write ch1 and it all kinda deflates. I think I've started and rewritten this a good six or seven times before getting this. And the real ballser? The minute the plunny finally comes back and I know what I want to put, my stomach reminds me that it's been a good long while since my last meal and hey, wouldn't breakfast be grand? (Not even going into how I then found "The Body" on FX and was further distracted…)_

_But all in all, I'm still relatively happy with it. And before I forget: theme for this chapter is "Passionate" from table two._


	3. She Smiled, and He Saw the Stars

_**11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself**_

_**Chapter Two: She Smiled, and He Saw the Stars**_

"I did it – give the man a medal! Earth, Naples – December 24, 1860!" he says with a small chuckle, his face split in a grin as he leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. He glances at her, eager to see her reaction to his cleverness, and she doesn't disappoint – she hasn't yet.

"That's so weird," she says, her lips curving slightly. And suddenly he feels his hearts start to race, his eyes unexplainably drawn to that little smile gracing her face. She looks at the screen, and the smile grows. "It's Christmas."

And he turns from her, holding out an arm to the waiting doors of the TARDIS. He wants her to run out, to see and feel and live Christmas in Naples, 1860 – he wants to see that smile grow until it nearly tears her face in two. He wants to see that smile she had worn when she first ran in, leaving Ricky behind in a dingy alley – he wants to know he caused it, just like before. He wants…

"All yours," he says, cutting across his thoughts and smiling at her in welcome invitation. He wants, but he can't – he's a Time Lord, and she's a human. It doesn't matter what he wants when it can't last – it never does.

She follows his gaze, and he sees her hesitate. He wonders if her mind has gone back to the observation deck, to seeing her planet burn before her. Just like…

"But it's like…think about it, though – _Christmas_, 1860," she says, and his mind is brought back to here and now – to her. She looks up at him, and he folds his arms back over his chest, observing her. He focuses on her and sees her mind turning behind her eyes, and he wonders what she's going to say. Something fantastic – she has a habit of surprising him like that. So young, and yet so wise. It isn't the first time he's glad he went back, and he knows it won't be the last.

"Happens once – just once – and it's…gone," she says, looking down. "It's finished – it'll never happen again."

He looks back to the monitor, smiling as her reasoning plays out. He looks back at her, the smile brightening as she looks back to him, and he can't fight the rush of pride at how she seems to work everything out. He may be dead clever, but he was starting to believe that she was, too – maybe more so.

"Except for you," and he's nearly blown away. She smiles at him, leaning closer with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes, but he's drawn to that smile – to that tip of tongue poking against her teeth, peeking out in a perfectly innocent, teasing –

"You can go back and see days that are dead and gone a hundred thousand sunsets ago," she says, and his smile softens. He fidgets slightly, unsure of what exactly to say. He presses his tongue against his lips, trying to work something out, but he stays quiet – and she continues right along, once again causing that rush of pride to swell within him. "No wonder you never stay still."

"Not a bad life?" he asks, and she watches him for a moment, her mouth hanging open in a suspended look of happiness and awe. And he can see it suddenly, swirling around her in a golden glow of life and perfection and something just so simply _Rose_ he can't really explain it.

"Better with two," she says, and he can't agree more. Her lips draw up and squint her eyes, and it's there again – that smile he saw that first day, the one that has captivated him ever since. And it's because of him, because he went back and asked twice – because he brought her along for the adventure of a lifetime, and he knows she loves every minute of it.

And he sees it, then, the golden glow softening to everything she had said. He offered her the universe, the chance to see stars and planets and people she never could have dreamed of seeing stuck in a council flat. He looks at that smile and sees it all and so much more – everything he offered her, everything he still plans on showing her – it's all tied up in that one smile.

He looks at the smile of this one human girl, and he sees the universe, stretching out before him in a dazzling display of light and life and _Rose_.

He gives her his own smile, knowing it's nowhere near as fantastic as hers, but he can't hide it – though he looks down in an effort to. She pushes around him, surprising him as she runs to the doors.

"Come on!" she calls, and his eyes fly open as he watches her try to leave.

"Oy, hey – where d'you think you're going?" he calls, and she stops to grin at him.

"Eighteen-sixty," she says, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes.

"Go out there, dressed like that – you'll start a riot, Barbarella!" he says, hiding the grin as she picks at her jacket and looks herself over. "There's a wardrobe through there – first left, second right, third on the left, go straight ahead, under the stairs, past the bins, fifth door on your left. Hurry up!"

She walks off with the air of a scorned child, and when she's gone and past him he lets out the beaming grin he'd been trying so hard to hide. It wasn't good lecturing someone with a smile – it completely ruins the effect of authority you try to maintain.

He hops through an open grille on the floor, determined to get his mind off that smile by doing some necessary repairs on the TARDIS. It isn't long, though, before he hears her footsteps echoing through the halls, though he tries to ignore them – even when the rustle of fabric comes to a stop right by his head. He can't, and when he looks up he wishes he had.

"Blimey," he gasps, looking her over. From the deep scarlet of the full skirt, the shimmering black lace of the bodice with a neckline he wanted so badly to label indecent, the black cape she had tied about her shoulders to block the inevitable December chill, all the way to the dangly earrings and the matching scarlet ribbon she was using to sweep her hair up into a delicate knot, she is…well, an image. She's gorgeous, but by the smile she gives him and the warning point he knows she doesn't realize.

"Don't laugh," she says, her tongue again poking between her teeth. And he sees them again, the stars and the worlds and the universe swirling around her in that beautiful golden glow mirrored by that smile.

"You look beautiful," he says, and he means every word. But she looks up shyly, startled from her observation of how she must think she looks, and the stars burn just a bit brighter as the smile warms. And suddenly he realizes his slip, and it's all he can do to pull himself away from what he knows he can never have – no matter how tempting or how bad he wants it. He pushes the stars away and looks back to the panel he had been working on. The real stars are better, anyway.

"Considering."

**A.n.:**_ I would love to know how it's possible that the plunny started raving while listening to 12 Stones's "Broken Road", which is so obviously not a happy breakup song and should totally not inspire anything DRose (though the first verse is so very tempting…). I was gonna leave this alone for a day or two, work on school stuff that needs finishing, but then I put that song on and shapow! Plunny madness. Anyway, theme is #03 from table one ("mouth/lips/tongue/sense of taste")._

_And a big thanks to everyone reading; I was not expecting this to take off like it has, and it means so much that you guys are enjoying this so far. Y'all rock so much._


	4. They Danced, and the Universe Didn't Imp

_**11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself**_

_**Chapter Three: They Danced, and the Universe Didn't Implode**_

"The nanogenes will clean up the mess and fix themselves up – 'cause I just told 'em to," he says, bursting through the doors of the TARDIS and walking up the ramp to the controls. He turns back once, just long enough to make sure she's still behind him, before continuing his lap around the console. "Nancy and Jamie will go to Doctor Constantine for help, get old – all in all, all things considered, fantastic!"

"Look at you, beaming away like you're Father Christmas," she says, and he stops to look at her, taking in her amused smile and twinkling eyes. He gives her the most serious look he can muster, ignoring for a moment the sheer joy thrumming through him.

"Who says I'm not? Red bicycle when you were twelve," he says, and he moves on to complete his second lap of the console.

"What?" she asks, her face lighting in surprise as he comes back around to face her. He spreads his arms wide, grinning and ignoring her question like he had never said anything suspicious. She didn't really need to know, did she?

"And everybody lives, Rose – _everybody lives!_" he cries, throwing his head back and shouting to the high ceiling of his magnificent ship. He twirls back to look at the console, flicking a switch as he prepares to send them off into the vortex. He can barely keep still, and he wonders briefly how she would react if he were to pick her up and spin her around. It seems like a good idea, but he knows he can't – knows he never could. "I need more days like this!"

"Doctor," she calls, and he looks back to her, still grinning as he fiddles with the controls.

"Go on, ask me anything – I'm on fire!" he shouts, pumping his fist and giving a jerk – the closest he'll let himself come to that hug he so desperately wants. He looks back down, and he can feel his body shaking, desperate for something to do to release the euphoric energy.

"What about Jack?" she asks, and he looks up to see her hesitant face. The joy fades just slightly as he remembers the conman, and he can't help but feel a bit put out at her question. He looks back down, knowing he can't keep the smile for her, not if it involves Jack. Not if he has to tell her Jack will be fine, just to see her smile again. Not if he can't help but see Jack as another Adam, ready and waiting to sweep Rose off her feet and away from him. But she's not his to be swept from, is she? She never can be.

"_I think you're experiencing captain envy."_

Does she have any idea how right she was?

"Why'd he say goodbye?" she asks, but he won't answer her. He continues to fiddle with controls, plotting a course. He knows exactly what will happen to Jack – he knows Jack won't survive the explosion. He knows it's best for her to just forget him, and he knows he won't even have a him to remember. He won't let Jack become anything more than some crazy conman that helped them stop gasmask zombies. Besides, why bother, anyway? Jack wanted to dance with Rose. Jack wanted to dance with Rose over and over and over again – Jack wanted to take her away. Jack wanted…

…funny, he doesn't remember setting the coordinates to lock onto the signal from Jack's Chula ship…

He looks up at her again, and he gives her a smile – it's forced, but he has to. He stands and looks at the screen, trying for just a bit longer to ignore the expectant look she's giving him. She wants an answer; he knows it, but…he doesn't want to keep Jack hanging around. He didn't want to keep Adam around, and he really doesn't want to keep Jack around. Can't she just get a gerbil or something like normal people?

"We're on our way to get him, apparently," he says, and he realizes with a pang that the smile on her face makes it worth it. Even if he has to deal with them…_dancing_…that one smile makes it worth it. She walks around the console and takes his hands in her own, and he looks at her in surprise. She smiles, and he wonders why he didn't think of going for Jack in the first place – and then he remembers the smile's for Jack, not him, and again he feels that pang somewhere in his chest.

"I believe you still owe me a dance," she says, and he frowns.

"Rose, really – now's not the –" he starts, but she just shakes her head and he pauses. His eyes roam over her face, from the gold strands curled around her cheeks to the brown eyes watching him just as carefully – to the lips he looks at a bit more than he really should curving in an amused pout. He knows the minute he sees the pout he can't fight her, and he reaches over to flip a switch on the console. "Moonlight Serenade" plays out through the speakers, and with a delighted smile she leads him closer to the door.

"Sure the universe won't implode?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows at him, and he gives her a look.

"Now, look here, Ms. Tyler – I'm quite certain I can and have danced before, and does it look like the universe's imploded?" he asks, and she laughs as she steps closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and motioning for him to grab her waist. He feels his hand shaking as he does so – obviously he's still excited about earlier and the energy just hasn't worn off yet. Obviously.

"See? Not so bad," she says as they begin to sway with the music, and he looks down at their feet to realize they aren't really moving at all. Still, it's nice, and he can't say he minds holding her so close. Better him than Jack, and he knows –

"Well, hurry up, then!" she calls over his shoulder, and he nudges her slightly as he hears Jack start to run towards them. They begin to move, and he finds he can't keep his eyes off her face, loving the way the soft lights of the TARDIS are flickering over her cheeks.

"Good," she whispers to him, and he smiles just a bit as they continue to dance, really just stepping back and forth in time to the music. He ignores Jack, not quite ready to deal with him just yet and not quite ready to release Rose to him – not yet. They'll have their dances later; this one is his. Even if it is…

"_It's our song."_

And his mind starts to wander as she tells him to turn, and he jumps as she squeaks and hops away from him. She turns back to him, and he realizes he had twisted her arm, and suddenly he's not too sure just how he feels about this dancing stuff.

"Ok, ok – try and spin me again, but this time…" she gives him a look, shaking her head, "…don't get my arm up my back."

He looks down, shifting as he watches his feet. He knows this – knows he could have spun her properly if he had been thinking just about dancing with her and not how she had danced with Jack to the same song. It was _their_ song – why did he have to flick it on, anyway? Just because he remembered it from the hospital…he can dance. He knows he can.

"No extra points for a half-Nelson," she says. He looks around, trying to find something on the floor to blame for his mishap – a loose edge of floor, perhaps? – before he looks back to her.

"I'm sure I used to know this stuff," he says before walking away. He turns back to see her look down, and that's when he catches a glimpse of Jack, waiting by the rail.

"Close the door, will you? You're ship's about to blow up," he says, trying to ignore the way Rose is walking towards him. Of course she'd go to him for a dance to _their_ song when he makes a mistake. Of course. "There's gonna be a draft."

He looks back the controls, flicking a switch as he hears Jack close the doors. At least he knew how to take orders – that was a decided improvement. Still, he was sure a gerbil could listen just as well.

"Welcome to the TARDIS," he says, noticing with distaste how forced he sounds. He continues to set their destination, frowning as he hears Jack move closer.

"Much bigger on the inside," Jack says, and he bites back the scowl. Of course he would say that – they always do. A gerbil wouldn't. Maybe if he just casually suggests it, Rose will find she'd like the gerbil more. She can name the gerbil Jack – and really, won't that be a decided improvement? And if she wants it to be a captain, it most certainly can be – if this conman can claim the title then a gerbil can, too. He's beginning to like the sound of Captain Jack the gerbil.

"You better be," he says, and he imagines Jack with whiskers and fur and button tail, and he decides that yes, it would be an improvement.

"I think what the Doctor's trying to say is, 'You may cut in'," he hears Rose say, and a quick beep makes him realize just how hard he's gripping the button on the console. He curses the excess energy – what else could it be? – before looking up to see Rose take Jack's hand, and the TARDIS beeps at him again as his fist tightens.

"_I think you're experiencing captain envy."_

The bloody hell he was.

"Rose!" he calls as they smile at each other, grinning and giggling like lovesick teens, and they look up to him. "I've just remembered!"

"What?" she asks, and he grins as he notices Jack's smile looking forced.

"I can dance!" he says, stepping away from the controls to snap his fingers. He grins at her, sashaying towards her as the opening strands of "In The Mood" plays out. No, he won't dance with her to _their_ song – but who says they can't have their own? "I can dance!"

"Actually, Doctor…" she starts, taking a step towards him. He stands just before her, smiling and swinging and snapping in perfect time to the music.

"_You want moves, Rose? I'll give you moves!"_

"I thought Jack might like this dance," she says, and his grin grows just a bit at how put out Jack looks. Serves him right, bloody non-gerbil.

"I'm sure he would, Rose," he says, stepping back and forth as she nods. "I'm absolutely certain!"

He looks at her, raising his brows once suggestively, and she bites her lip.

"But who with?" it's all he needs to say, and she looks down to hide her smile as Jack clears his throat. She doesn't look up until she's once again in his arms, and it's that smile he loves so much she's looking at him with. He grins as they begin to move back and forth, dancing along with the beat and moving away from Jack, who's watching with a half-amused, half-sulky look from the rail.

It's their song they're dancing to, not _theirs_; this one is for him and her, and he can dance. And the universe isn't imploding. And to prove it to her, he spins her around – twice, and he doesn't twist her arm. And they keep moving away as Jack walks closer, and he fights the urge to toss a good "Let's see you do this, gerbil!" over his shoulder.

He lets go, but they keep dancing – moving closer back together as they walk past the captain's chair, snapping with the song. And in a flash of fancy footwork he grabs her again, and he pulls her close as they dance closer to where Jack has parked himself. He hears the song coming to an end, and, shooting a quick glance at Jack (one that she's come to call his "I'm so Impressive" smirk), he dips her, and she lets out a cheer. He sees Jack look away, giving him a quick smile of defeat, before he pulls Rose back up – and they both smile as she leans against him, laughing into his shoulder and not letting go. He finds he rather likes how she doesn't let go.

"Told you I can dance," he says, grinning at her as she pulls away slightly to look up at him. And again he feels the energy thrumming through him, and for a moment – just a moment, looking at her flushed cheeks and smiling face – he feels a bit dizzy.

"Nice moves."

**A.n.:**The Glenn Miller Story_ was on TCM the other night, and I swear I'm not being biased when I say the scene where they played "In The Mood" was my favorite part. Just because they kept playing through the air raid, even when the other soldiers started running away screaming. It was awesome, really (and the actor that played Glenn ain't too shabby looking, either –grin–). More to the point: I had a total blast with this one (can y'all tell, as it's the longest so far? xP). Theme is "Music / Sound" from table three._


	5. She Came Back, and He Gave Her His Life

_**Dedication:**__ This one goes to Laheara. Thanks for the help with the clips – you rock a zillion!_

_**11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself**_

_**Chapter Four: She Came Back, and He Gave Her His Life**_

"You are the heathen. You will be exterminated."

It fits, somehow. He looks down, the verdict of the Dalek god settling into his mind. He'd smile, but he can't bring himself to. Ten million ships burning around him keep him from that simple act.

"Maybe it's time," he says, stepping back from the lever. And maybe it is. After nine hundred years, maybe it's finally time for the Doctor – the renegade, the Oncoming Storm, the Destroyer of Worlds – to die. And maybe he's ok with that.

He closes his eyes, and in his mind he's back on his TARDIS, reliving the last moments of the war. He sees a switch, so similar to the one lying before him, waiting for him to flip it. He hears the screams in his mind – Time Lord, Gallifreyan, TARDIS…even the Daleks. The worlds in his little galaxy, screaming out in torment as they watch their neighbor struggle to survive. Most are already dead themselves – all will be when he's flipped that switch.

And then they're screaming for a different reason, but in the end it isn't really. They had screamed in death and pain and dying before, but it had been because of the Daleks. Now they scream because of him – because he's just flipped the switch that will kill them all, Gallifreyan and Dalek alike. The Time Lords are dying because of him. The Gallifreyans who aren't yet Time Lords are burning along with them, and he sees it all over again. His home – home, even if it had exiled him and scorned him and had refused to claim him as its own – is dying. And he's just pushed the button that made it happen. Flipped the switch. Pulled the lever.

They're dead now, and it's all because of him. His mind is empty, quiet, and he has no one to blame but himself. Himself and the Daleks, the stinking Daleks that never die no matter what. Burn them, and their Emperor hides away. Rebuilds from human refuse. Creates new Daleks. And he can't even pull the lever that will kill them for good, because his mind is empty.

If he flipped the switch again, another world would die. The world that, in a way, was more of a home to him than Gallifrey ever was. He watched Gallifrey burn – made it burn – and this is what he's been reduced to. How could he make the Earth burn? But his mind is still empty.

There are no more Time Lords to reach out to him – not Susan, not Romana, not any of the pompous senators who had banished him, not even the Rani or the Master. There's not even a single Gallifreyan left to tickle the edges.

There's only one TARDIS left, but it's thousands of years away – safe, with the one that cared too much and smiled too brightly and made him dance.

He's alone, and yes, maybe it is time. The Daleks will kill him, and he won't regenerate. The last Time Lord, about to rejoin the others and make their race nothing more than a myth. It's time, and he thinks maybe he likes it.

The wheezing of his TARDIS returns to his mind, and he smiles as he feels her reaching for him across time. She knows he will die, but she won't accept it – not like he has. She reaches for him, and he pushes her back. _It's ok. It's time._

"Alert! TARDIS materializing!"

His eyes snap open at the gravelly bark, and he whirls around to see her fading in, her blue light a beacon in the dark satellite. A rush of panic and worry fills him; the Daleks will get her. They'll kill him and they'll get his TARDIS, and it won't end. They'll ravage time and space all over again, and no one will be there to pick up the pieces.

But she's washing over his mind, calling out to him in a soothing song. _It will be all right_, she says. _The Daleks will not win. It will be all right._

"You will not escape!" he hears the Emperor scream, but it's the farthest thing from his mind. He didn't want to. He had sent Rose and the TARDIS away because he knew he wouldn't. Because it was time.

And amid the chaos that has flourished in his mind – the memories of the dying, the burning, the screaming; the gentle reassurances of his magnificent TARDIS; the raging voice that just wanted to give up – one thought sticks out. He had sent the TARDIS _and_ Rose away. Rose. Where was she? Had the TARDIS somehow returned, on her own, after leaving Rose in her own time? What had happened to Rose?

And before he can wonder any more, the doors burst open in a flash of golden light, and he can't face it. He steps back and throws his arms up, shielding himself from the golden glow – but not before he sees her, standing in the light like a mythic being, like an angel. His angel, Rose Tyler.

"_There's me."_

He looks up, just to make sure, and there she is. His eyes widen at the glow, the same glow he had seen in every smile she had given him come to life in a swirling mass of life and time – but there's no smile on her face this time, and suddenly he's afraid, more afraid than he had been moments before when the Dalek god had issued his death sentence.

Tendrils of light move around her, pulsating and writhing in a familiar dance, and he stumbles back as she disintegrates, merging with the light as millions of flecks of golden dust. _No._ Already he knows what she has done, but he can't accept it. He takes another step back, and he bumps into the machinery behind him. He grabs at it as he falls to the floor, but his eyes never leave the dust and light Rose has become. _No._

_It will be all right._

The light fades, receding into the TARDIS but still swirling just at the edges. And suddenly she's there again, back together and standing above him, and he looks up at her as pure, unadulterated terror courses through his veins. She looks down at him, and he sees the gold swirling in her eyes. Again he knows, but again he denies it. He can't accept it – it's not time, not for her. He will die – he's ok with it – but not her. Not his Rose.

…his Rose?

"What have you done?!" he asks, and her mouth moves slightly. Like she can't breath, can't comprehend what's happening around her. _What have you done?_

"I looked into the TARDIS," she says, and his blood chills at the hollow echo of her voice. It's not her voice, not his Rose's voice; she's there, somewhere, but suddenly he knows that this is not the girl that has been traveling with him for the past year. Part of her, yes, but something else – something ancient. The Vortex – time itself – surging through her. His Rose – _his_ Rose! – caught up in a maelstrom of time. "And the TARDIS looked into me."

"_There's me."_

"You looked into the Time Vortex, Rose," he says, his voice pleading for the girl he knows – the Rose he knows. She's in there, and he knows it, but he doesn't feel like he can reach her now. She's trapped beneath the Vortex, and he can feel it – see it. She's burning, just like they did before her. She's dying, and again he'll be alone – because there's no one else, not even her. "No one's meant to see that!"

"This is the abomination!" he hears the Dalek god scream, and only a tiny part of him takes satisfaction in the knowledge that he's terrified, too. But it's for a different reason, he knows – the Emperor is scared because he knows he will die. _He_ is scared because he knows _she_ will.

"Exterminate!" a Dalek shouts, and he sees the death ray shoot out. He bites back the bile as the voice echoes in his head, merging with all the others to create one solid memory in his mind.

Miles beneath the ground in Utah, chained and dying and waiting for orders that will never come – the last Dalek, or so he had thought at the time. Henry van Statten, so proud to pull the stars to him and lock them underground with labels. His Rose, so proud to cling to his arm as he showed her the stars van Statten wanted to horde. His Rose, trapped with a fully functional Dalek just seconds away.

"_It wasn't your fault – remember that, ok? It wasn't your fault."_

But it was. He had pushed the button. He always pushes the button, and someone always dies. Now Rose, his Rose, and just like them it's his fault. But she won't let him believe it, not his Rose. She's too nice for that. Too kind. She cares, too much – too much for someone like him.

"_And…you know what? I wouldn't have missed it for the world."_

Can she still say that? He doesn't know how she could say it then, and he doesn't know how she could now – she's burning, dying. Because of him. Because he had taken her hand and told her to run. Because he had gone back and asked her again. Because he had seen her smile and wanted more. Because she had danced with him and the universe hadn't imploded.

Because somewhere along the way, she had reached right past his hand and had grabbed at his hearts, forcing them to beat again after he had flipped a switch and made them stop.

She's dying because he was selfish.

"_Exterminate!"_

"_I killed her."_

And he's doing it again.

"_She was only here because of me…"_

But he had sent her away this time – why had she come back? She wasn't supposed to be here – he was supposed to die! It was _his_ time, not hers!

"_You're about as far from the stars as you can get! And you took her down with you…"_

Hasn't he done the same now? The Oncoming Storm, and he's blown her away in his wake. It's his time to die, and he's taken her down with him.

"_She was only here because of me…"_

His eyes widen as the death ray hits her hand, and he jerks his head around to stare at the Dalek as the ray seems to move in reverse. Backwards, manipulated into never having left the ray stalk. She's burning with time, and she's controlling the Daleks. They can't touch her now. They can't kill her.

But she's killing herself.

"I am the Bad Wolf," she says, and he looks back to her, jerking his head around. He ignores the twinge in his neck the rapid motion gives him – it doesn't matter now. He hears the words in his head, but he can't place it. Bad Wolf is nothing – just two words that they keep running into.

"_Everywhere we go, two words following us. 'Bad Wolf'."_

She can't be 'Bad Wolf' – it's just words. A bit of graffiti on the side of the TARDIS. A broadcasting network. A nuclear plant. It's just words – just words.

"_Nah, just a coincidence. Like hearing a word on the radio then hearing it all day."_

"I create myself," she says, and he sees her look to the sign on the wall. 'BAD WOLF CORPORATION'. _Bad Wolf._ "I take the words."

It's niggling in the back of his mind, clicking into place even as it folds out before him. His hearts still as he watches her eyes, and somehow he knows. It wasn't just a coincidence – it never is, not with him.

"I scatter them," she says, and she waves her arm across her eyes. His stomach knots; he wants to deny this, to deny the being standing before him as Rose. He sent her home – she shouldn't even be here! Why did she come back? Why is she doing this to him – to herself? "In time and space. A message to lead myself here."

_No._

It was her, all along. Pieces of a puzzle, all to bring her back when he sent her away. He forces himself to breathe as he watches her, and he can't bear it. Jeopardy-friendly, that's what he had called her. And he had been so right. He sends her to safety, and she comes back. She makes it possible. She absorbs the bloody Vortex and becomes the very message that had following them all this time. She comes back.

But it's not right; it shouldn't be playing out like this. She's only nineteen, and human, at that – she can't control it. It will kill her. It's not her time. She can't die – not for him, never for him.

"_She was only here because of me…"_

"Rose, you've got to stop this!" he cries, but he knows she can't hear him. She's too far beyond him, consumed in time and burning – just like them. "You've got to stop this _now!_"

He can't lose her, not like them. He can't be alone again.

"You've got the entire Vortex running through your head – you're gonna burn!" he pleads, though he knows it won't work. She's already burning, always burning – can't she feel it? Can't she hear him?

"I want you safe," she says suddenly, turning to him, and it's Rose looking at him, not the Bad Wolf. His Rose, watching him with those eyes he doesn't deserve to stand under, so full of care and concern for him, the one who could never deserve it. She's dying because of him, but still she comes back for him. Still she burns for him. Why? Why does she care so much? "My Doctor. Protected from the false god."

And all too quickly, she's the Bad Wolf again. His Rose is once more lost under the torrents of time, and again he feels his hearts halting, stopping as she's pulled from him. He sent her away to prevent this – to keep her safe.

"_I want you safe. My Doctor."_

No, no, no, no…this can't be how it all ends. _No!_

"You cannot hurt me – I am immortal!" the Dalek Emperor sounds so far away, but still he registers on the outskirts of his mind. He doesn't care anymore; the Daleks can win – haven't they already? He needs the Bad Wolf to leave Rose. He needs Rose safe.

"_I want you safe."_

"You are tiny!" the Bad Wolf cries, looking up to the screen showing the Emperor, and a chill races down his spine at the anger in her voice. So angry, yet so sure – she knows. "I can see the whole of time and space."

"_You're gonna burn!"_

"Every single atom of your existence – and I divide them!" she cries, and she raises her hand as the golden glow returns to her eyes, hiding any trace of what could be Rose. He sees the Dalek that had fired at her collapse in on itself, disintegrating into the same golden flecks she had. But he knows it won't return – she won't let it. She controls it all, burns with time and knowledge and she can destroy them all.

She will destroy them all, including herself – all for him. Because she wanted him safe.

"_I killed her…"_

"Everything must come to dust," the Bad Wolf whispers, her body just barely shaking – and he can see it already taking its toll. She can't handle it – she's dying, burning. Because of him.

"_It wasn't your fault."_

But it is. It always is.

"All things. Everything dies," she says, and he follows her gaze as she raises her arms, looking to the other Daleks. And just like the first, she destroys them, turning them into that golden dust. Erasing them from time and space – erasing their very existence. "The Time War ends."

She says it with such a finality he can't help but believe her. He knows she's right, and not because the Vortex is controlling her – not because she's Bad Wolf, but because he can see her. He can see his Rose standing in the middle of it all, so determined to protect him – even to the point of killing herself. But he still can't accept it.

"I will not die!" the Emperor screams, but he can't help but notice the fear in the grating voice. The great Dalek Emperor, the self-proclaimed god of all Daleks…scared of a human. A human teenager, a girl – his Rose. The Emperor knows he will die, and he is afraid. He takes a bit of comfort in that.

"_Maybe it's time."_

"I cannot die!" the metallic voice is in pain, screaming out against the fate it knows it cannot fight. The Dalek Emperor – the Dalek god – dying, after all these years. And because of his Rose – because of the Bad Wolf.

All of the Daleks, every last one, erased – reduced to nothing more than dust in time. She's completed her task, but still the Bad Wolf stands before him. Still his Rose burns, and still he can't feel his hearts beat. It can't end like this – she can't die, not like this. Not because of him.

"_I killed her."_

Not like them.

"Rose, you've done it – now stop," he says, watching her, pleading with her. _Stop before you burn. Stop before you die. Stop before I'm alone._ "Just let go!"

"How can I let go of this?" she asks, and he can't tell who's speaking – Rose or the Bad Wolf. Her eyes glow, and something screams out in the back of his mind – something wrong, something terrible about to become because of her. "I bring life."

He can feel it, even before it's fully happened. Below them, something fixed – something wrong. Jack? _No._ She wouldn't – couldn't – do it.

But she's the Bad Wolf, and the Bad Wolf is Rose.

And Rose loved Jack.

"But this is wrong!" he screams at her, the Time Lord emerging in a fury of outrage against the fact. He had died. She can't bring him back – she can't fix his existence like…it's all wrong, and it's all his fault.

"_I want you safe."_

"You can't control life and death!" he cries, and she looks at him, her eyes losing the glow as Rose emerges. Rose doesn't care – Rose wants them both safe.

"But I can – the sun and the moon, the day and the night…" she says, and he feels his eyes widen in terror. Flashes of Reapers and car crashes dart across his mind, and he wonders what else she will bring back with the power of the Bad Wolf. It's all coming apart, all unraveling around him and he can't stop it – can't stop her. "Why do they hurt?"

"The power's gonna kill you, and it's my fault," he shouts, begging her to understand. He looks away, unable to face her as she watches him through her tear-filled eyes. He can't take it, can't take her – it's all too much. He sees her dead in his mind, just like them – burned out of existence, and all because of him.

"_I want you safe."_

"_It wasn't your fault – remember that, ok?"_

"_I killed her."_

"I can see everything," she says, and he looks up at her, the screaming voices suddenly silenced in his mind. Again he feels the TARDIS ghost over him, her gentle reassurances calming his fear. And just as suddenly as hope had left, he knows what he must do – the only thing he can do, the only way to save her from burning. The only way to save her from dying.

"All that is, all that was…all that ever could be," she whispers, and he pushes himself from the ground, standing before her. He sees it, too – he always sees it. He knows now how this will end, and a part of him almost smiles at the irony of it all.

"_Maybe it's time."_

It is time, for him – not for her. He can save her. She can live, as Rose and not the Bad Wolf. She will live. She has to.

"That's what I see," he tells her, smiling as the last of his plan clicks into place. He'll miss her, but she'll be safe – and even now, that's all he really wants. "All the time. And doesn't it drive you mad?"

"My head…" she gasps, and he sees the fear and the pain in her eyes and his hearts break. _Soon, Rose – it'll all be over soon._

"Come here," he tells her, grabbing her arms. She's shaking, but he doesn't know if it's because of the Vortex or fear. _Soon, Rose._

"It's killing me," she whispers, and he smiles at her. He reaches out with that simple gesture, willing the fear away; she doesn't have to be scared anymore. She's not going to die this time – he won't let her.

"I think you need a Doctor," he says, grinning at her, but she can't return the gesture. He pulls her close, stepping next to her as she watches him warily. Does she know – can she see his plan? Can she see how this will end, just as he can?

He tells himself it's the only way, but even then a quiet voice in the back of his mind is shouting at him that he's a liar. A liar and a coward – why hadn't he tried this before, when no one's life was in the balance? He pushes it back and leans towards her, and before he can give himself a moment to question it his lips are pressed to hers. And for a moment, as he grabs at the Vortex and starts to tear it from her, he almost pulls back – but then he can't, knowing that if he does she will die. It's just to save her life. It doesn't mean anything. It's the only way to get the Vortex safely out of her.

It has nothing to do with that part of his mind he's been fighting ever since she swung in on a chain to save him. It has nothing to do with how he's been secretly wanting this for so long now and is only brave enough to do it when he doubts she'll remember. It has nothing to do with how he's a coward.

He just wants her safe. His Rose.

He pulls away before he can lose himself, but he lingers over her, allowing the rest of the Vortex to drain into him. Forcing Bad Wolf to leave his Rose, forcing it all into himself. And then it's there, and she's Rose again, but he can't think to be glad. Her eyes roll into her head and she's unconscious, falling into his arms. He smiles just barely as he puts her down, knowing she'll be safe, before he stands and faces the gold light singing at him from inside the TARDIS.

Maybe it's a final gift, a quiet thank you or another reassurance from his magnificent ship, but his senses are suddenly enhanced, and he can see it all so much more clearly. He sees Rose, happy and safe and with him – but it's not him. He sees big hair and goofy smiles, too much energy and a penchant for prattling. She stays, and she lives – and they're happy, so very, very happy.

As he releases the Vortex back into the TARDIS, he almost can't bare to let it go – to let her go. He wants to stay; he wants it to be his hand she's holding while running from the dog-like beast. He wants it to be his arm she clings to as they watch the shooting stars in the snow. He wants to stay, with her – but isn't he, really? It will still be _him_, just not him. And they'll still be together. His Rose and her Doctor, still running through time and space – always running, because if they stop…

It's just a quick glimpse, but it's enough to make him pause as the last of the Vortex starts to leave him. He sees a stark white room, and with a sudden sense of fear he sends her message to one more place – across dimensions, to a cold beach. To him, the one who is coming with the big hair and new teeth, to bring him there. To bring her back after she's lost.

And then it's gone, and the doors close as the Vortex is returned to the heart of the TARDIS. Again there's that niggling in the back of his mind, but he can't place it – why does he feel like it isn't really over, even if he knows it is?

But he smiles and lets it go, and he bends down to where he had left Rose on the floor. He runs his hand along the side of her face, and his smile warms just a bit as the niggling goes away. He's just being silly – the Daleks are gone – dead – and all thanks to his fantastic Rose.

He picks her up and carries her into the TARDIS, setting her down as gently as possible near a railing. He pauses as he stands, just barely suppressing the shiver that runs through his body as he feels the process begin. He doesn't have long, and he silently hopes she wakes up before it happens. He doesn't want her to wake up to someone new, not without warning.

He goes to the controls and punches in some coordinates – just into the Vortex, just for now. It'll be safe there, and he needs safe for this. As the rotor starts to pulse he can't help but feel another niggling in his mind, a voice that sounds so very much like Rose shouting at him to wait for Jack. He's not far – they can't leave him.

"_I bring life."_

But he's already pressed the button, and they're already dematerializing. He sees Jack run in on the monitor, and a part of him shrinks back. He looks the same – nothing different – but he's all wrong. And he has to get away.

He closes his eyes as he leans against the console, swallowing as he feels the energy coursing through him. _Not yet. Not without warning Rose. Not yet._

"What happened?" he hears her ask, and he turns to look at her. She lifts her head up, staring at the high ceiling of the control room as her eyes adjust and refocus. He looks up at rotor, forcing a smile as he watches it move.

"Don't you remember?" he asks, looking back to the monitor. He needs a distraction – he doesn't have much time. But he has to warn her…how will she react if he just up and changes in front of her? Another niggling, and he thinks that maybe that would be worse than letting her wake up after it's happened.

"It's like…there was this singing," she says, sitting up, and he looks at her.

"That's right – I sang a song and the Daleks ran away," he says, grinning. Maybe it's best she doesn't remember, but he can see she's trying to. It doesn't make sense to her – he can already tell; there's a blank space there where Bad Wolf had been, and she needs to fill it with something. She needs to remember. But a part of him – the part of him that will always be a coward – doesn't want her to. He doesn't want her to remember that pain. He doesn't want her to remember what she has done to Jack. He doesn't want her to remember their kiss.

"I was at home – no, I wasn't…I was in the TARDIS," she says, and he looks back at the screen. "And…there was this light…"

His eyes drift to his hand, and again his hearts still as he sees the light coursing through the veins under his skin. Maybe his hearts really did stop – he wouldn't be surprised, not now. Not during this.

"I can't remember anything else," she says, and if he had been able to focus he would have been glad. The light in his hand dims, and he turns his head towards her. He has to warn her – it's starting. If he doesn't…she deserves that much. He has to warn her. She looks up at him, smiling weakly, and his lips quirk slightly.

"Rose Tyler," he says, and he grins as a slight laugh follows. He knew, the moment he had realized he was fighting Daleks again, that he would die today. He had just figured it would be at the end of a Dalek death ray, not because of her inability to listen. He had sent her home to keep her safe, but she had to come back. Yes, she really was very jeopardy-friendly.

"_I want you safe."_

"I was gonna take you to so many places – Barcelona? Not the city Barcelona – the _planet_ Barcelona. You'd love it – fantastic place!" he tells her with a chuckle, and she smiles at him, raising those dark eyebrows in that curious way of hers. She doesn't understand, and he's not doing a good job of explaining – but his mind's collapsing, and he can't really think straight.

"They got dogs with no noses," he says as the thought hits him, and he laughs at his joke. It's not what he needs to tell her, but somehow it's the only way he can. She smiles and looks away, and he can tell she doesn't understand. She probably thinks he's gone mad, and in a way he thinks he has. He always does during this process – just a bit, at least. "Imagine how many times a day you end up telling that joke and it's _still_ funny!"

"Then why can't we go?" she asks, sounding confused and just a bit amused. She doesn't understand – why doesn't she understand?

"Maybe you will," he says, and he knows it has to be now. Before he loses all coherency. Before his mind finishes imploding. Before he dies. "And maybe I will. But not like this."

He smiles and looks back to the screen, his hearts racing a double-double-time against his chest. That's not good enough, and he knows it, but it's the best he can do. _Please understand. Please._

"You're not making sense!" she says, holding up a finger to him. She sounds like she's lecturing – like he's a small child asking why he can't go to the park after hours. Somewhere inside he feels a stabbing pain, but he ignores it – not yet, not now. Not before he's warned her properly.

"I might never make sense again! I might have two heads – or no head," he says, and he laughs at the prospect. She smiles at him, scratching the back of her neck in a way that lets him know she's just humoring him, and he laughs a bit more. He's done this before – eight times, and not once did he ever come out with no head. Still, first time for everything…

"Imagine me with no head – and don't say that's an improvement," he says, looking to her. She raises her eyebrows quickly, letting him know that she wasn't even considering it until he mentioned it, and he smiles as he looks down. He looks back at her, and he knows it has to be now. "But it's a bit dodgy, this process."

She just smiles, and one of his hearts breaks for her. She has no idea that in a matter of minutes he'll be standing before her with big hair and new tee-

Big hair? He mentally shakes his head, ridding himself of the déjà vu-esque feeling; he doesn't know that. He never knows how he'll turn out.

"You never know what you're gonna end up with," he says, and he sees her smile droop. She doesn't understand, but he can't hold it back any more. He curls in on himself and jumps back as the pain shoots through him, and all of the sudden he sees that glow taking over his skin. It's happening, and he can't stop it – he can't hold it off any longer.

"Doctor!" she cries, and he hears her trainers slap against the floor as she runs towards him. He glances up, hardly able to raise his head against the screaming pain.

"Stay away!" he orders her, but to him it sounds more like begging. He doesn't want her to see this – she won't understand, doesn't understand.

"Doctor, tell me what's going on," she says, and he straightens as his arms tighten around his middle. He can feel it burning through him, every cell screaming out as they collapse. She's terrified – he can see it in her eyes. He wants to reach out to her, to hold her – to tell her that it'll be all right. But he can't see past the burning, and he can't find the words.

It was the only way.

"I absorbed all the energy of the Time Vortex – and no one's meant to do that," he says, and he forces a smile on – for her.

He had to, for her.

"Every cell in my body's dying."

She would have, if he hadn't. He had to.

It was the only way to keep her safe.

"_I want you safe."_

"W…can't you do something?" she asks, looking at him with wide eyes. She's scared, but he is, too. It's the end, and he knows there's no way around it. But it's ok – she's ok. It was the only way.

"Yeah – I'm doing it, now," he tells her, but again he knows she doesn't understand. Silly little ape with her tiny mind…how does she get around in that thing, so small?

"Time Lords have this little trick. It's…" he pauses, letting out a breath as another wave stabs at him. _Not yet, please. Just a bit more._ "It's sort of a way of cheating death. Except…"

He looks up at her, and for a moment all he can do is watch her. She's so scared…and all for him. Because he's hurt. Because she doesn't know how to help.

"_My Doctor."_

He is, isn't he? But will she still think so, even after he's gone? When the new him comes? Will she still be willing to absorb the Time Vortex just to keep him safe?

It flashes through his mind, that déjà vu feeling again, and he wonders why he can see her on that cliff in front of the city – New New York? – standing with that funny man in brown with big hair. Why does he look so familiar? But she's happy, and for now that's all that matters. She survives. She heals. She's strong like that.

"It means I'm gonna change," he finally says, nodding at her. She'll be all right. He'll be all right. She shakes her head, confused and lost and still so afraid, but there's nothing more he can do. She'll be all right. "And I'm not gonna see you again. Not like this. Not with this daft old face."

He laughs a little as he gestures towards his head, and he wonders briefly if she'll like his new face. She had liked his ears – not many people had liked his ears. Will the new him have big ears, too? Will she like them, even if they're smaller?

_It will be all right._

He can't worry about it, not anymore. He's dying, and she'll be fine. He'll still be there for her, even if he doesn't make sense and has no head. She'll still be alive.

"And before I go –" he starts, but she steps towards him and looks at him like…he doesn't know. She's terrified, but still she's trying to make him feel better. She's always…maybe that's why he loves her.

…loves her?

Yes, loves her.

Shame he couldn't admit it 'til he was dying. He thinks she might've liked to hear it, just once.

"Don't say that!" she tells him, and he smiles slightly. She'll be ok with it, in time. It was the only way to keep her alive, and he knows they both like her alive.

"Rose," he says, only slightly bothered by how she won't accept any of this. He needs her to. He needs her to understand. She stops, and he's grateful. She needs to know this – he doesn't know if the next him will ever be smart enough to tell her. He never had, and he's a genius.

"Before I go I just wanna tell you you were fantastic," he says, smiling. It's not exactly what he wanted to say, but he's a coward – even now he can't tell her. Not even at the end. "Absolutely fantastic!"

She's not smiling, and for a moment he wishes she would. He wants that to be the last thing he sees, that smile that lit up the universe. That smile that was the universe. But she's scared, and he knows she can't smile – not yet. She will, in time, just not now. He looks down, feeling his body collapse around him in a burning haze.

"And you know what?" he finally asks, looking up at her. She shakes her head, unable to speak, and he smiles. A true smile, reaching up to his eyes and showing his teeth and positively beaming at her. He smiles for her, because she's alive and safe and he knows she'll be all right. He smiles for him, the new him that's about to arrive and take her by the hand and keep running, as long as she lets him. For them, because they were fantastic and he knows they still will be, even after he's gone. But mostly for her, because she's his Rose and she's strong and fantastic and he knows she'll survive. Even when he has a new hand for her to hold.

But he feels it, burning the last of him and sending him away. He looks at her, his smile warming as he realizes this will be the last time he sees her – like this, at least. But it's ok – he had to, for her. He had a good run, this time around. And maybe next time will be better.

"_..you were fantastic."_

She really was, and she still is. Absolutely fantastic.

"_And you know what?"_

"So was I."

**A.n.:** _Y'all have no idea how much I've been looking forward to writing this; I've had this chap pretty much planned out from the moment I chose my themes. I apologize for it taking so long to get here; it would've been up at least a week or two ago, but I was having some Word issues (trial expired, locked out of all my files, didn't get it back 'til last Tuesday – two weeks after it goes kaputz on me)._

_Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chap as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks again to Laheara for uploading the clips; this chapter would be really, really bad without your help. xP And before I forget: theme for this chapter is "Kindness" from Table 4._


	6. She Held Him, and He was Home

_**11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself**_

_**Chapter Five: She Held Him, and He was Home**_

He sighs and looks down, accepting the Face of Boe's words even as he pushes them to the back of his mind. He doesn't dwell on the enigma – this new him doesn't really dwell on anything. He just rushes into the next matter at hand – Cassandra, this time around. The self-proclaimed 'last human'. The misanthropic nutter who decided to take up residence in Rose's body. The one who's killing Rose. But, right now, isn't that more important? Especially when there's nothing he can do over the Face of Boe's perplexing message?

"And now for you," he says, slapping his hands on his thighs as he turns and stands. Cassandra jumps, and a part of his mind takes a bit of satisfaction in her shock. Good. Scare her – she deserves it.

"But…everything's _happy_," she says, hugging her…_Rose's_ arms and shifting slightly. Nervous – double good. He wants her to fear him; she's already proved herself hostile, and now she's threatened Rose. He'd said no second chances – he won't even begin to entertain the idea of a third, especially for her. She doesn't deserve it, not after everything she's done and is now doing to Rose. "Everything's _fine_ – can't you just…leave me?"

But he hears what she's really asking. _Can't you just leave her?_ _Can't you just leave Rose?_

_Can't you just let her die?_

But that's her way of doing things – not his. Never his. And not with Rose.

It's Rose in front of him – her body – but it's not her voice. Not her personality. Not her Everything about her is wrong, and he can't help but think back on the Bad Wolf – but this is Cassandra, not some ancient being of the Time Vortex, and Rose hasn't chosen this.

And he won't lose her, not after Satellite Five. Not after he died to save her. Not after he…

Blimey, even when he was angry and thinking this new him had a gob!

"You've lived long enough," he says, but he doesn't even try to be compassionate. He doesn't care, and he lets her know; he won't comfort her through this. Not after what she's done to the humans. Not after what she's done to Rose. "Leave that body and end it, Cassandra."

She raises Rose's hand to Rose's face and chokes on a sob, and for a moment he can almost forget that it's Cassandra crying in front of him instead of Rose. His gut twists in that painful way it did every time the last him had seen her cry, and he has to force himself to keep from reaching out to her. It's not Rose. It's Cassandra, and she doesn't deserve his care.

"I don't want to die," she whines, and he bites back the snarl. With every word and every action she just proves that she is without a doubt not Rose – could never be Rose, not the amazing human girl who had wielded the Time Vortex like it wasn't the most powerful thing in existence. Not the amazing human girl who had made the Dalek Emperor quake in fear. Not the amazing human girl who had reduced one of the mightiest races ever to no more than dust in time. Rose is strong; she wouldn't be sniveling before him in someone else's body, fighting the inevitable. She'd embrace it – she'd rush at it head-first. Just another adventure.

Rose cares. Funny how Cassandra can only care when it's _her_ life in the balance.

She's not Rose, and she needs to leave.

"No one does," he says, looking up as he rolls his eyes. Again he doesn't care that he sounds exasperated with her. He is – why shouldn't she be aware of it?

"Help me!" she whines, and he looks away in frustration. So many times he's nearly lost Rose through their adventures, and he thinks that maybe this is worse: having her body standing before him with someone so blatantly _not Rose_ whining at him. It's unfair, it's mocking, and it's grating on his last nerve.

"I can't," he says, and she sobs again. Patience isn't something the new him has a clear concept of, but he's trying. He has to – for Rose. If he loses it…well, who knows what Cassandra would do then.

And he's not going to lose Rose because of a narcissistic skin tack.

'Bitchy Trampoline' – isn't that what Rose called her the first time they met?

Well, it certainly did fit – even if she wasn't quite a trampoline at the moment…

"Mistress!"

He looks with her to the curtains of the room, where a patient is running towards them. No…not a patient – Chip, wasn't it? That man that was with Cassandra earlier – her servant. He's surprised to see him; not so much because he survived, but because he came back. Cassandra was willing to leave him – abandon him to death, even when he had tried to go back for him. And yet, despite that, here he was, still obedient.

He may be a 'clone thing', and he may only have a half-life, but in that instant he realizes that Chip is more human than Cassandra could ever be – has ever been.

"Oh, you're alive!" Cassandra gasps, and he can't decide if she's shocked or relieved – or maybe even disgusted. Probably a fair mix of all three.

"I kept myself alive – for you, Mistress," Chip says, smiling at her like some love-sick, teenaged boy. It's surprising, how loyal he is – but maybe that's just another thing that shows how brilliantly human he is. Even for a non-human.

"A body…" Cassandra starts, and his jaw tightens as he glances between her and Chip. It clicks into his mind, what she's thinking, and something flares inside of him. After all this, and she's still the same old Cassandra – still willing to kill in order to get what she wants. "And not just that – a volunteer!"

"Don't you dare – he's got a life of his own!" he shouts, pointing at her. Rose would never forgive him if he let Cassandra do this; Rose wouldn't want her freedom back if it meant another life. She cares too much about people for that.

"But I worship the Mistress!" Chip says, catching his eye, and he has to pause.

"_I want you safe. My Doctor."_

It's like a blow to the gut as he remembers, and suddenly he can't find the words to argue. Chip cares about Cassandra, regardless of her actions. He cares about her because she is, and in that sense he's so much like Rose. He can see her in him in that instant, and he can't argue. Chip is willing to die for Cassandra – just like Rose was willing to die for him. And though he knows it's wrong – though he wants to talk him out of it – he can't find his voice.

Can he really let him do this? Let them?

…will he?

He almost misses the wink Cassandra gives him, and he knows that nothing he says will matter. They've both made up their minds.

"I welcome her," Chip says – reverently, and it snaps him out of his stupor. This is wrong. This isn't the same as Rose absorbing…_this is wrong!_

"You can't, Cassandra! You –" he shouts at her, but it's too late. Rose's eyes roll back into her head as her body sags back, and he throws his hands to his head as the light that is Cassandra sling-shots out of Rose's body, jerking her forward. He steps back, groaning at how difficult they're being – but no sooner is the light inside Chip than she falls, and he's lunging forward to catch her – to catch Rose.

"Are you all right?" he asks when he feels her hands grab his arms, and he almost smiles at the way her grip tightens on him. It's almost easy to brush aside the thought that she's just supporting herself – to think that maybe she needs that extra squeeze to confirm that she's really there and he's really real, that extra reassurance to let herself know she's alive. That maybe he's enough to let her know it's all ok now.

She doesn't answer him, pausing as she gasps and reorients herself. He sees her eyes fluttering beneath her lashes, and he wonders if she really is all right. Her grip on his arms loosen and she starts to take a step back, and for a moment he thinks that she's fine.

And then she stumbles, and he's leaping forward with a "Woah!" to catch her as again her eyes roll back into her head. He pulls her closer, that unexplainable fear still gnawing at him, and her head flops against his shoulder. The storm – the fury- is still simmering just below the surface in his mind, and as she doesn't answer he swears Cassandra will pay if Rose…

"Are you ok?" he asks, shoving the thought from his mind. He won't let himself think it – not this soon after he almost had. He can't think it. She gasps as she comes back to herself, and he lets himself take that breath he hasn't realized he's been holding. Jeopardy-friendly – isn't that what the last him had called her? New New Doctor, and she's still proving herself to be the same old Rose – even down to the daily hearts attack she enjoys giving him.

"Yeah," she breaths, and she steps back – but only slightly, just enough to stand on her own. Really, it's more of a lean; she's just leaning away from him, and she's still close…but he finds himself wishing she hadn't, even if it does show that she's feeling at least a little better. He liked having her against him like that. But she's still close, and she's still clutching his arms – still holding him a bit tighter than is necessary, but he doesn't complain – can't complain. She lets out a breath, and that nervous look melts into her smile – _his smile_, he likes to think.

"Hello," she says, and his lips tug upward as she laughs – it's weak, but it's still a laugh. He lets the relief wash over him like a flood, and as she squeezes his arms he fights the urge to crush her to him and spin her around – but maybe, he thinks, she wouldn't really mind.

"_You're so different."_

Isn't he, though? New New Doctor – but some things haven't changed at all, and he can see it in her smile and feel it in her arms and hear it in her laugh. Everything changes during regeneration, but not this – not this time. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but after today – after nearly losing her again so soon after Bad Wolf – he finds he has no other choice.

She's still Rose, and she's still got him completely and utterly under her spell. He still thinks of her as his – still lo…no. Impossible. Time Lords don't…they're above that. He's above that.

Last time was weakness – disoriented insanity brought about by a regenerative fever. He didn't really mean…no, not that.

But he can't deny that she's special, and he can't deny that he cares. Maybe more than he should, but he does care.

He'll admit that much. Has to, really – after the run-around today's been, how can he not?

"_Oh, I love this! Can I just say…traveling with you? I love it."_

She really is something special, his Rose. And maybe someday he can tell her that – when she's not still shaken from the possession, when everything's settled and calm and good between them…he thinks she might like to hear it.

Not "I love you", mind – not the insanity the last him wanted to tell her. Just…he cares. And she's special.

Brilliant, really…

And then it hits him, like another tidal wave washing past his relief to consume him – for the first time since the War, he's at peace. For the first time since Gallifrey burned, he feels…safe. Content. Like he's home, even though it's been lost. And he remembers the first time he really saw her, staring down at him in that burning factory, and he remembers his fear of her – but there's no fear this time. She's home – _his_ home – and he can admit it without fear. Because it's true. Because it's right.

Because she's his Rose, and he's her new new Doctor, and everything really is ok.

Even if, y'know, he doesn't love her. 'Cause he doesn't. Nope, not at all…

"Hello," he tells her, relaxing his arms but still not letting her go. He doesn't think he can now – not ever again. He smiles at her, completely relaxed and comfortable and perfectly content to just stand there holding her. To just stand there with her holding him. Funny how the only time this new body seems content to stand still is when she's touching him…

His throat catches for just a moment, and he's not sure what to say.

"_You're completely mad – I can see why she likes you…"_

And he almost rethinks it – almost admits that the last him was right and he did love her and still does and Rassilon he just wants to snog her again and have her hair looking disheveled because he's been raking his fingers through it and why doesn't he just tell her she's driving him mad and –

_NO._

He's a Time Lord, and Time Lords don't fall in love – especially with humans.

No matter how brilliant they are. It's just impossible.

So he blinks, giving her an extra squeeze for good measure, and shoves away every irrational thought surging through his head. He pushes them back and drags out two words – simple, succinct, and undeniably true. Just two words to relay to her his joy, and even though the brevity surprises this gobby him, he finds they work, and that'll do. For now.

"Welcome back."

**A.n.:** _Ok, y'all…to be frank, I had this "finished" a few days ago. And then I realized what I wrote totally contradicted the idea of this story, and it had to be rewritten. Dx_

_BUT: I do really like what I originally wrote, so I went and uploaded it on Wishfics as an alternate ending! If you want to see what it originally was (and see why I couldn't use it), follow this link (you know the drill – remove spaces 'n such):_

_wishfics DOT livejournal DOT com SLASH 20370 DOT html_

_Anyway, I'm gonna miss writing Nine, but Ten is utterly adorkable and a total blast to write, too. That being said, hope y'all enjoyed this one, and I hope it was a bit more light-hearted and cheery than the last chap. Oh yeah – and theme was "Hug / Glomp / Embrace" from Table 5._


	7. She Laughed, and He Remembered Joy

_**11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself**_

_**Chapter Six: She Laughed, and He Remembered Joy**_

He's always considered himself brilliant, but this is topping his charts. Looking at the CD in his hand, he immediately writes off the pun; this regeneration seems to have a tendency for them. He twirls the CD around, hiding his grin as he walks around the controls and towards Rose, who's stuffing something into that old knapsack of hers. He glances at her as she kicks it under the console and stands, straightening her skirt. She turns to him and gives him a nervous smile, and he looks down as if he hadn't been looking in the first place.

He's found himself doing that a lot lately.

"What do you think of this – will it do?" she asks, and he looks up to give her a quick scrutinizing glance. He pauses only a moment, too short for her to think any of it, and looks back to the CD as he passes her.

"For the late 1970s? You'd be better off in a bin bag," he tells her, and though he doesn't look he can imagine the look on her face. Part amused, part uncertain – she never can quite figure out whether he's teasing or not. He thinks that might be why it's so much fun. "Hold on, listen to this."

He puts the CD in the player, and the rotor starts pulsing as music sounds from the speakers. For a moment he considers turning it up; he feels it should be louder. His mind flashes back to a night not really so long ago, when Glenn Miller had blared from the same speakers. Loud notes and catchy tunes, and he had twirled her 'round the console like she was the only one in the universe. Moved by jealousy of a gerbil who later proved his worth, but still…that moment had been theirs. He wonders if maybe she'd care to share another dance with him, but as soon as the thought comes he lets it pass and continues his trek around the controls.

They'll have plenty of time for dancing when they reach their destination, anyway.

"Ian Dury and the Blockheads – number one in 1979," he says. She starts to walk towards him, and he keeps moving, flipping switches and turning knobs to enter the coordinates needed.

"You're a punk!" she laughs, but he's not quite paying attention. He's always liked this song, more so this time around. _"It's good to be a lunatic…"_ "That's what you are. A big old punk with a bit of rockabilly thrown in."

He grins at that, imagining himself with Billy Ray Cyrus's mullet and too much mascara. Achey Breakey Heart, indeed!

"Wanna go see him?" he asks, looking up at the rotor as the TARDIS hums, sounding more like a laugh. His lips twitch up as he pats a bit of the console, and he makes a mental note to play Ian Dury more often.

"How'd you mean?" she asks him, looking surprised. "In concert?"

"What else is a TARDIS for?" he asks, twirling as they go into a little dance. It's not Glenn Miller, but this him thinks that maybe it's just a bit better. More teasing, and just them, even if before it was just them, too (no Gerbil at the door, and while a part of him misses the Gerbil he likes it just them again, the old team). He grins as he sees her shake in response to his twirl, and it's all he can do to keep from laughing. This him, when it came down to it, is just plain silly – and she likes it. He thinks he does, too.

"I can take you to the Battle of Trafalgar, the first anti-gravity Olympics…" he lists, continuing his stroll around the controls. The TARDIS hums at him, and again he nearly laughs as he realizes how much she enjoys the idea of a concert over battles and sporting events, too. That's his girl! "…Caesar crossing the Rubicon, or…"

He looks over at her, smiling at the amused grin she was giving him. He wonders when he started doing things just to see that smile. The part of his mind that speaks in a Northern accent tells him it was around "Better with two."

"Ian Dury at the Top Rank, Sheffield, England, Earth, twenty-first November, 1979 – what do you think?" he asks, stopping just across from her. She stops, pausing for a moment to look like she's seriously considering it – he already knows she'll agree – before tapping her hand against the console's rim.

"Sheffield it is," she says, and he could laugh at how simple she makes it sound. It only figures – he offers her all of time and space, and instead of something great and historic like the Battle of Trafalgar she agrees to an Ian Dury concert. He knew there was a reason he lov…liked her so much.

Really, he had to stop doing that…

"Hold on tight," he says, releasing the handbrake. The TARDIS shudders around them, a violent jerk that sends them both flying towards the console and each other. He sends a look to the rotor as he hears her amused hums in the background, but he can't bring himself to be cross with her. He rather likes the way Rose brushes against him as they right themselves. All the same, he takes another step away before his mind can think up any more crazy ideas and grabs the mallet.

There's no need for it, and he wonders if Rose realizes that as he begins to tap different parts of the controls. He sees the quirk of her brow, the knowing smile on her lips, and he thinks she just might. He taps the console again, keeping perfect time with the music despite the shaking, and she mouths along with the music: _"It's good to be a lunatic!"_ He doesn't point out that she's a bit late in the song for the line; he catches the glint in her eye and realizes she knows. She's teasing, as he often does. He grins and begins hitting the console again, and with a violent jerk that nearly sends their heads crashing through the central column the TARDIS comes to a halt – just as Rose cries "Stop!" They fall back, and for some reason he can't contain the laughter that's been bubbling in him since she first woke up that morning (well, whatever accounts for morning in the TARDIS, at least).

He's flat on his back, his legs and arms tucked up to break his fall. His head's thrown back against the grating, but he doesn't worry about the bump he knows he'll have in an hour's time. He's laughing, and she's laughing, and as her peals cut across his ears he glances over to her, and while she keeps laughing he stops. Her eyes are closed, that smile he loves so much splitting her face as her giggles shake her body, and for a moment he's lost in that look of sheer joy spread across her face.

It's just a bumpy landing and a silly song, something that's really nothing. Typical for them in their crazy, hectic lives, but all the same it makes her smile and laugh like it's new every time. And she stops laughing to look at him, and for a second – just a second, but a second that feels so much longer than it really is – they're frozen in that moment, lying on the grated floor and looking at each other and smiling and suddenly his heart swells with an emotion he refuses to name, and all for her. Her eyes twinkle at him, and he can't remember the last time he felt more alive and so very, very…happy.

Happy?

Yes, happy. He's happy, and it's all because of the human girl lying across from him. All because of Rose and how she laughs and lives and blimey, isn't she just gorgeous with her cheeks the color of her namesake?

But he recognizes the path his mind is taking – one it's been wandering closer and closer to since, and really even before, his regeneration – and he shoves it aside. Right now he feels alive and happier than he can ever remember being, and right now he wants to share it with her. He can think on the complicated matters later – right now, they have Ian Dury to see.

"1979 – hell of a year!"

**A.n.: **_I'm terribly sorry this's taken so long to get out; life's been a bit hectic at the mo, plus I've been working on Aku's (very very very) late birthday gift, which just doesn't seem to want to be finished like…ever. Dx Thanks to all who've stuck with this – y'all rock so much. P.s.: this follows Theme 20 from Table 2 (silliness/crazy)._


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